


Give Him Back

by MetalMistress



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Badass Reader, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Fluff, Evil Joey Drew, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Joey Drew Studios, Joey Drew Sucks Donkey Dick, Joey Drew being a Jerk, Joey Drew deserves all that is coming for him., Just a silly author who makes a lot of typos, Just angst, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Not Beta'd, Reader takes no shit, Romantic Fluff, The Author Loves Her Bestie And Wants All Her Dreams To Come True, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, YEAH KICK HIS ASS, just fluff, just love, motherfucker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 08:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23348188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetalMistress/pseuds/MetalMistress
Summary: Your husband has been missing for over a week now.It's safe to say you're concerned. One day he gets a letter from his old job about 30 years ago, tells you he's going to go see what's going on and will back soon, only to never return. You tried talking to the police-- they won't listen to you, no matter how much you express your concern. They just say if it's been a week, then there's nothing they can do. But you're not going to sit around and do nothing. You have a list of suspects.... and who is number suspect number one?Your brother.
Relationships: Henry (Bendy and the Ink Machine)/Reader, Henry Stein & Reader, Henry Stein/Original Female Character(s), Henry Stein/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Give Him Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mysafeplaceishere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysafeplaceishere/gifts).



> Heyyy!
> 
> So this is my 'baby-come-back' fanfic for my bestie, who is probably a little mad at me for the last fanfic I did because it was really sad. (😘 I love you, doll. Plz, forgive.)
> 
> I don't want to spoil too much, but I will say there are a couple of warnings;  
> -Graphic Violence.  
> -Cursing  
> -Angst  
> -No smut, but definitely heavy petting. Gimme dat sexual tension 👅  
> -Kissing  
> -Death Threats  
> -Talk of death, etc.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/187285942@N03/49705721027/in/dateposted/)

( _Banner Created By Me._ )  
( _All And Any Art Used Belong To Their Respective Artists._ )

**"** _Alright, Joey. I'm here. Let's see if we can find what you wanted me to see._ **"**  
 **-Henry Stein**

* * *

You were angry. No, you were _livid._

Once again, you asked the police for help with finding your missing husband, earlier this morning. Once again, you were denied. You, Henry's beloved and cherished wife, were currently angrily pacing in your kitchen with your arms crossed over your chest and your brows furrowed together as you steamed, huffed and puffed while muttering violent curses under your breath. Normally, your husband would be the one to calm you down in this state-- you had a nasty temper as a result of growing up with rowdy, smart-mouthed brothers, after all. Henry was the only one that was able to soothe your angered soul when you got like this, as you were 'just too much to handle' for anyone else-- their words; not yours or your husband's. Unfortunately he's not here to help you, which is the reason why your temper is beginning to spiral out of control. You had been like this for the past week; nothing but white-hot rage all wrapped up in an feminine package. 

Letting out a frustrated growl, you mentally go over what happened just this morning, again, when you returned to the police station for some sort of aide. Once again, you had tried to file a missing person's report for your husband to try and get some assistance from law enforcement in finding him. You had hoped that someone, anyone would be willing to listen to you; to take you seriously and not just blow you off. You had been denied, quite harshly. They had completely made up their mind's about your husband's character, insisting maybe he had run off with some brazen little hussy or was trying to get some space from you. Henry wasn't like that! Not at all! He was quite devoted! He loved you, he cherished you and worshiped the ground you walked on, and you did the same for him!

Still, despite your frantic attempts to get them to understand, they told you that they had more important cases to be solved which, of course, greatly frustrated you. Oh yes, that stack of donuts on their desks was certainly an important case that just needed to be solved right away. _Bastards._ Your husband was important, certainly more important than a stack of cheap, greasy donuts! Yes, it frustrated you to no end to have them throw you out, only to watch from a window as they laughed and retreated back to their desks to stuff their faces.

Even _more_ frustrating? You already had an inkling as to who was responsible for the disappearance of your sweet husband.

_Your brother, Joey Drew._

Yes. You are Joey Drew's younger sister. The youngest sibling of 3 to be exact, and the only girl your parents ever had. The 'food chain' is as follows; Joey the eldest, Charles the middle child, then you, the youngest child who has severe anger problems and beats the crap out of your older brothers when they tried to pick on you. The first time they played a prank on you, they learned _real_ quick you weren't to be messed with too much because even at the tender age of 6 you didn't hesitate to headbutt them right in the nuts... and you had a hard skull, too. Poor Charles was afraid you popped a testicle once when he made the mistake of calling you a brat for tattling on him.

Knowing you had a temper was alright with you, but not so much with everyone else in your life. As said before, your temper was hard for others to handle. Like a premature jack in the box, you were quick to pop off at _anyone_ that dared spin your handle just _a little_ too fast. The only exception to that rule? _Henry._

Henry- _Fucking_ -Stein, stud-muffin extraordinaire. Well. At least, that was thirty years ago when you met at the opening of Joey's studio. Now he's a silver-fox extraordinaire. You swear, that man ages like _fine wine_. His natural dirty blonde hair has long since faded into pure, stunning silver over the years, but he was still as handsome as ever to you... _and those eyes of his_. Those striking wolf-like golden-honey eyes irises just seem to have the ability to stare directly into your soul and set it ablaze with nothing more than a simple narrow of his eyes. He had a strong jawline, angular and sharp and that combined with the rest of his strong, masculine features? Mmm. He was _gorgeous._

But as much as you wanted to fantasize about your husband all day, you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Currently, you were angrily pacing back and forth in your kitchen, trying to get a grip on what to do next. Obviously, the police aren't going to help you. You've repeatedly told them time and time again that your husband was missing, you've told them that he went to your brothers and never came back home, but they still insist he ran off with another woman and just pat you on the shoulder while suggesting you file for divorce. You stormed right out of that police station immediately, because if you hadn't, you'd have socked them all right in the jaw.

Your pacing slowly comes to a complete stop as you anxiously rub your hands down the front of your form fitting jeans, nothing but the sounds of your heavy breathing to keep you company. You adjust your black sweater, tugging the edges of it down as you let out yet another irritated sigh. You angrily stare down at your bare feet as you try to think of what to do. You lean against the kitchen table while running your fingers through your hair to calm yourself to the best of your ability, though it brings you very little comfort. If anything, it just dampens your already sour mood because you wish it were Henry's fingers instead of your own.

If only Henry were here. You know exactly what he'd do. He'd take you in his arms, and hold you tight to his chest, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he ran his fingers through your hair. Then he'd make you a cup of coffee or tea or _something,_ and would sit with you at the table to try and relax your mind while chit-chatting about random things. Maybe he'd hum a little, if you didnt feel like talking... Gosh, you love your husband. Honestly, it's a wonder how such a kindhearted man fell for such a rowdy, fiery and feisty woman such as yourself. You always thought he'd be the kind to settle down with a demure, gentle soul of a woman. A soul of rose petals, flowery perfume, and kitten whiskers. Not a soul like yours, all fire, all flame, all spice and all tiger claws.

Oh, how bad you want to be in your husbands arms right now. You'd do just about anything to have him slide up behind you, wrap his arms around you and breathily exhale into your ear. Oh, what it would be like to just... have him spin you around, and slow dance in the kitchen to the radio, or cuddle on the couch or just snuggle in the bedroom after a night of intense passion. You'd love to do nothing more than to stare into those wolfish eyes of the absolute gentle giant of a man, to feel his rough hands gently caress your face... to comfort you and tell you everything is alright... to save you from this dreary loneliness that has begun to settle into the very bones that make up your home.

...You know what? Don't people always say if you want something done right, that you gotta do it yourself?

Hmm.

...A determined expression comes over your face and you look over at the kitchen table, where the letter that Joey sent to Henry still lies. You snatch it off the table, the thick paper crinkling against your fingers as you storm out of the kitchen and head up to your bedroom to prepare to leave the house. The last you knew, Henry was on his way to your oldest brother's house to talk to him about this letter. He had no reason _not_ to trust him but... Joey has never ever really been, ah... _reliable._ You tried to warn your dearest husband not to depend on him _too_ much but... his kind soul wouldn't allow him to protect himself or to abandon who had been his best friend and his best man at one point in time. That's how Henry is; he's all in, or he doesn't want to have anything to do with it at all.

And it appears in order to find your dear husband, you were going to have to get _nasty._

It's time to put on your ass-kickin' boots.

* * *

You pull up in front of your eldest brother's address. This is it. This is the last known place of your husband.

You climb out of your car, and slam the door shut. You take a moment to a look over yourself, smiling with satisfaction at your appearance. Honestly, you looked like a stereotypical 'bad girl' that they cast in movies and force to wear all black, no matter how hot the weather is. Your jeans, black sweater and gogo boots were fine-- every girl owns a pair of those now-a-days. But the old, black leather jacket that belongs to your husband is what _really_ captures the look you're going for. You're not self conscious about wearing it either-- despite your age, you looked fairly young. Henry always got mildly frustrated whenever you two would go out in public, because he had a full head of silver hair, while your hair hadn't gone grey yet. Not to mention, all that skincare stuff you use pays off. People usually stop you on the streets, commenting about how they think you're too young for Henry. Though, that might be a jealousy thing. You're not sure, you really don't care.

That's not your purpose for wearing this outfit.

For ages, your eldest brother Joey tried to hammer it into your head to dress like a lady and not like one of those 'scandalous women' AKA 'I-wear-whatever-the-fuck-I-want-and-fuck-off-ya-asshole-if-you-don't-like-it' women. You decided that if you were going to be forced to meet him again, then you better at least come looking prepared to kick ass, because that's exactly what you intended on doing if he didn't give you what you wanted.

You adjust your pants and then bend down to adjust your black gogo boots, so lovingly and affectionately named by your husband as your 'ass-kicking boots of doom'. After preparing yourself, you walk up the driveway, paying no mind to the nosy neighbors that peek out their window as you approach Joey's front door. You have a mission, and you're here to get it done _and_ get some god damn answers.

It's time.

Knocking heavily, you call from the other side; "Knock knock, let me in!"

As you wait not-so-patiently, you hear the fumbling of many locks-- is someone paranoid? Hmm. How suspicious, Joey. _Very_ suspicious indeed.

The door swings open, revealing your much older brother. He smiles softly down at you as he re-ties the bathrobe he's wearing to make it a bit tighter. His eyes glisten with some sort of light... not a happy one. Something about it almost seems... ominous.

"Haha! Hello, little kitty!" He says, grinning a smile that is all fake-perfectly-white-teeth-and-dentures.

Little kitty? Oh Joey, you're revealing your plot here! You haven't been called 'Little Kitty' in a long time. No, you're little sister isn't a 'little kitty' anymore, Joey. She's a lioness, and she's _angry._

"Hello, Joey." You reply, trying to remain peaceful for the time being as you resist the urge to pummel him inside out. As much as you want to, it would get you no where and you're not sure if he had something to do with Henry's disappearance just yet... although, your gut is screaming at you to kick his ass because it knows _something_ is going on... it's just not sure what, specifically. "Can I talk to you? It's important."

"Sure!" He says, sounding suspiciously cheerful. "Come on in! I'll brew you some tea!"

"No, thanks. I'm not here to stay long." You reply smoothly. You didn't want to risk the chance-- not when you had a sneaking suspicion that your big bro was up to something. Something big. You didn't know what, you just... you could feel it in your bones.

"That's fine! Come on in!" He says as he steps aside so you have room to swagger right on in. You nod and bow your head appreciatively, as you cross the threshold of the doorway and into Joey's apartment. 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/187285942@N03/49706565041/in/dateposted/)

"Come in, come in! Make yourself at home! What's mine is yours! Anything for my little sister!" He says, playfully pinching your cheek. You have to force a laugh and a smile... but you immediately rub your cheek the moment he turns away from you to soothe the pain. He hobbles into the kitchen, and you quietly follow him, taking note of your surroundings. You might be of... _advanced age,_ but you're not slow-minded. That's for sure.

Because unless you're mistaken, that's _Henry's_ coat hung up in the corner on a coat rack. 

He's been here.

... _Joey, what did you do?_

"So, my dear! What brings you here? I haven't seen you for quite some time! How are the kids?" Joey asks as he busies himself by making a cup of tea.

"Great. Grown up, got families of their own. Cute lil ol' grand babies." You reply, stuffing your hands into your jean pockets, mentally taking note of his cane leaning against the wall for later use... god forbid you need it.

"Good! Good! And work?" He asks, just barely looking over his shoulder as he waits for the water to boil. The water quickly comes to a boil--meaning he's probably had tea not that long ago, and the kettle is still hot, and that he's not really thirsty, _he's just trying to look for an excuse not to look you in the eye._

"It's fine. Got a promotion, finally. What about you? Have you been busy?" You ask, narrowing your eyes at the back of his head, openly to widen them back to their normal size when he spins around to look at you, slowly approaching the counter with a steady smile.

"Nope! Just me all by myself!"

"Oh? No visitors? None what so ever?" You ask nonchalantly, despite your nearly irresistible urge to shout 'liar!'

"Of course not! You know I like my privacy!" He replies, that still smile suddenly becoming... _strained._

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/187285942@N03/49705106618/in/photostream/)

You quirk a disbelieving eyebrow at your older brother, causing his smile to falter as he realizes something else is going on. You didn't come here just to chat. Quietly, you reach into the inner pocket of your (Henry's) jacket, and pull out the folded letter. You wave it around in the air, before looking down to open and read it aloud; "Dear Henry, It seems like a lifetime since we worked on cartoons together. 30 years really slips away, doesn't it? If you're back in town, come visit the old workshop. There's something I need to show you. Your best pal, Joey Drew."

After reading it, you glance back up at Joey who is now nervously wringing his hands as you quickly embody the aura of 'gotcha-motherfucker', something you've been able to do since childhood and still terrifies him to this day... he has to force himself to resist the instinctive urge to cover his balls, because as a child if you got that look in your eye, you were about to headbutt. Joey had to admit, he was slightly more worried now... you weren't 6 anymore... and he wasn't 13 anymore. You lean against the kitchen island, and raise your eyebrows while tilting your head. You speak in a low, intimidating pitch.

"Joey. Is there something you want to tell me?" You ask, sounding oddly calm despite that your infamous temper is currently just barely being held back.

"I... I'm not sure what you're talking about. I haven't--"

"Joey, don't try to tell me a lie that not even 6 year old me would believe. This signature is in your handwriting, Henry told me he'd come see _you_ first before he went to the studio, and Henry's coat is still on a coat rack and I know it's his because it's new and I had it made specifically for him with my own money, and it's too broad in the shoulders and too slim in the waist for you. You know why I'm here, so just give it to me." You reply, lightly rapping your nails against the hard top of the kitchen island. 

Joey stares at you for a moment before sighing heavily as he runs a hand down his face. He hobbles over to the kitchen island and leans against it. "...He's not here." 

"Joey, don't lie--"

"I mean it. He's not here. He's at the studio."

"Then why hasn't he come home? It's been a week since he came _here,_ why hasn't he come home?"

"..."

"...Joey. Don't make me lose my patience. I'm _really_ trying to hold back my temper."

"He's not going to come home. He's not meant to come home, that was the purpose of it."

"Excuse me? No. No, you better start explaining now."

"Kitty..." He tries to plead with you in a sweet, soft voice.

"Where is my husband? Give me my husband, Joey! GIVE. HIM. BACK." You say, narrowing your eyes as you slowly lean forward against the kitchen island to emphasizing that you are _not_ fucking around.

"He's trapped! Ok!? He's trapped in there like a rat!"

"...Why? For what purpose?"

"...To feed the machine. Kitty, when I opened up the studio all those years ago, I had a dream. A dream where there could be cartoons! Real cartoons, walking around like you and I! It was supposed to be glorious! But.."

"...But?" You ask, cracking your knuckles loudly which causes Joey to cringe. Oh boy. Fists are out. Oh boy, oh boy. OH BOY!

"They never came out quite right. One creature in particular. Bendy."

"Bendy? From your cartoons?" You ask, as you slowly round the side of the Kitchen Island, slowly drifting closer to your brother who is starting to sweat bullets as he tries to frantically explain;

"Yes. He's... a tyrant. All powerful. He's a monster--an ink demon-- that controls and dwells in the deepest bowels of the studio. I want to reopen the studio, but I can't with Bendy stalking around. If he's gone, I can go back! I can reopen the studio. That's... I sent Henry there. I sent Henry in hopes... in hopes he would be able to destroy Bendy..."

You halt mid-step, as the raging inferno in your eyes suddenly explodes. "Wanna run that by me again?" 

"Kitty... I'm sorry. I--" Joey says, reaching his hands out towards you in a pleading fashion, as he tries to get you to understand.

You rear your fist back, and give your arm a good, hard swing, sailing your clenched fist right into Joey's face. Joey loses his already off-kilter balance and falls to the floor with a pained groan, clutching his nose to try and soothe the ache. When he pulls away his hands, he finds that they are bloody. Worried for only himself in classic Joey-like fashion, he feels his now crooked nose, only to flinch and whimper when it sends a sharp pain through the rest of his face. He looks up at you and scowls angrily while venomously spewing out; "You broke my nose!"

"Aww, I'm sorry. Here, I'll re-align it for you!" You reply as you rear your foot back and kick him hard in the face, sending his head flying back. As he rolls on the floor while clutching his aching face, you reach over and grab his cane that's leaning against the kitchen wall. Swinging it back like a golf club, you swing it back down right on Joey's nuts, causing him to lurch up partly to protectively cover his balls from further damage. He trembles upon impact, as nausea builds in his system from the strong hit-- fuck, that hurt worse than your headbutts ever did as a child. He had hoped you'd have become weaker with age... instead, you've only grown stronger. Makes sense, you do have the body of a 30 year old, despite being not that far from his age. Still, he lifts his head and growls at you;

"Bitch! That hurt!"

"You're damn right I'm a bitch, and if you didn't want me to do that, then you shouldn't have tried to mess with my husband, you fucking moron! You of **ALL** people should know not to piss me off! Where the fuck are your studio master keys?" You snap as you rummage around the room in places where he'd most likely hide it.

"What? Why?" He asks, raising an eyebrow to look at you, watching as you angrily tear up his kitchen-- oh god, not the junk drawer! He just organized that!

"Because if you are going to continue to be cowardly and refuse to give me back my husband, then I'll do it my god damn self!" You sneer as you spin around to face him. The violent rage in your eyes frightens him, causing him to try to weakly crawl away from you. As he scrambles to get away, you hear what sounds like jingling.

_From his pocket._

Joey looks down at his pocket and curses under his breath, and slowly looks up to see you angrily standing over him, cane reach to swing once more if needed.

"Give me the keys, Joey." You demand, reaching a hand out while making a grabby motion.

Joey's eyes widen. "Wait! No! He'll kill you!"

"Well, _you're_ not going to do anything. I want my god damn husband back, and I'll be damned if anyone gets in my way. Give me the keys, Joey."

"But... you don't understand!"

You quickly bend at the waist until you're right up in his face, snarling and growling like a rabid animal; "No, YOU don't understand. I'm sorry you don't know what it is like to love anyone other than yourself, but in case you want to know what it's like for normal folks, I can't BREATHE without Henry. You either give me those god damn keys or I'll take them from your broken body. You're my brother by birth but after what you just told me? I'll never look at you the same."

Joey's shoulders sag. If anyone else had told him that, he'd had laughed in their faces. But coming from his own family, his own flesh and blood.... Ouch. He frowns heavily as he sighs in defeat and rubs a hand down the front of his face. 

...There's really nothing he could say that would stop you, is there?

_Fuck._

Joey reaches into his pocket, and takes out the original set of master keys and with a trembling, hesitant hand, carefully places them into your palm. He gently takes your fingers and closes them around the large loop where the giant set of keys all hang from. He explains just barely above a whisper; "...Take them. You'll need them. All of them. There's... all the keys you'll ever need to get into any part of the studio on that key ring. But before you go... I know what I said is hard to believe, but--"

"It's not." You say so bluntly and with such a sharp, angry tone that it stabs Joey in the heart like a dagger. "Not coming from you."

Joey frowns and tries to ignore the way his heart pangs, and gives you some advice; "...Gather some things to protect yourself. Ranged weapons are nice, but don't use something like bullets. The bullets will only do so much damage, and you'll eventually run out of ammo. Something hard and heavy would help you best. I've never been inside-- not that deep at least, but I know everything about all the things that live in there."

"How? How could you understand them if you've never been inside that far?" You ask with a low growl.

"I created them." He says with a weak, exhausted shrug.

Narrowing your eyes, you stuff the keys into the pocket of your (Henry's) leather jacket while standing up straight. You stare down at your eldest brother, before turning away from him while saying; "You better pray that I die in there."

Joey's eyes widen. What the fuck?! He might be cruel but he couldn't hope and pray for your death at the hands of his creations! "What?! Why?!" He exclaims in complete shock.

You don't stop to look at him. You just keep on walking while shouting as you get ready to leave his house; "Because if I make it out of there, I'm coming back for you!"

* * *

You pull up into the parking lot of the abandoned, dilapidated studio, and step out of your car, swinging the door shut behind you before locking it. You take a glance around the parking lot and find it bare... except for one other car; Henry's car.

Joey hadn't lied to you, then. Huh. Well, that's new. Didn't know he could tell the truth for once in his miserable life.

Huffing, you lock your car doors and round the side of your car, striding towards the trunk which you quickly flip open upon arrival. You immediately reach for the heavy duty backpack you had packed and stuffed into the trunk prior to coming here. Yes, after leaving Joey's place, you headed home, packed a bag and did a little shopping before coming to the studio. Thank goodness you did, because if the sight of the run down building is anything to go by, you're going to need a _lot_ of help. You've packed a lot of basic survival stuff in, but you also managed to stuff it full of things you might need if stuff pops up in your way-- weapons, tools, first aid kit, matches, candles, etc. You had even stuffed some food and water in there, just because. (It's a big backpack, and you're _really_ good at packing things in to make space.)

You were prepared. More than prepared, actually.

After throwing the backpack on, you double check your belt and feel for both your car keys and the studio master keys. Once you're sure they're there, you carefully remove the studio keys from your belt loops, and walk towards the door. You fiddle with the keys in your hand, thankful to see that Joey was smart enough to label each key individually with the name of the room it unlocks. Thank god, because there were hundreds of keys. Why he needed so many rooms was beyond your ability to understand. Did he purposely try to make this place a maze over time.... perhaps to make it harder for 'Bendy' to get out? Is that why there were so many keys? Seriously! Keys to the offices, to the staff rooms, to the music departments, to the amusement park (!?). God, there are even elevator keys... Several of them. How many floors were there?!

Joey, what the hell were you doing? What was the _point_ to all of this? 

With so many rooms, you start to wonder if you'll be able to find Henry at all...

Swallowing down your anxiety, you push those doubtful thoughts into the back of your head. Don't think like that. Don't sit down and wonder about the 'what-ifs'. Your maternal grandma used to say that thinking those kinds of thoughts was like opening a gift without checking the sender, only to find it's from the devil Lucifer himself. By accepting those negative thoughts and allowing them to roam freely, you'll be liable to lose hope, to lose faith. You remember asking her what to do when 'Satan sends you a gift'.... She eloquently said you take that gift, and you shove it up his ass. Don't even ask, just bend him over and shove it right up his rectum. No lube necessary. 

"Don't hesitate!" She said. "Just ball your fist up and ram it up there as hard as you can."

So _that's_ where your feisty nature comes from. Huh, who knew it was genetic! Haha! Go granny!

Flipping through the keys, you eventually the "Studio Front Door" key, push it into the lock and twist it, successfully opening the door. Swinging the door open, you cautiously cross the threshold as you re-hook the keys onto your belt. You shut the door behind you, and carefully look around.

It seems... empty enough.

You try to tap into your memory banks-- it's been so long since you've been here, and the last time you came here was... well, way back when the studio was first opened. You barely remember the layout... honestly, nothing looks the same.... and for fuck sake, what IS all that annoying racket?! The metal vents above your head-- you swear it sounds like someone fucking crawling around in them like they're god damn spider-man-- that hero guy in the comics you bought for your grand kids for their birthday. There's also the sound of some sort of rushing fluid through pipes. Water? No, it sounds thicker than that, much thicker... sounds goopy, almost. There's also... a low machine-like humming noise, and the familiar clanking of metal... like gears clicking against each other.... and footsteps? Sounds like boots. Huh. Better get a weapon, just in case. Joey did mention that there were other things down here, and while you strongly doubt they wear working boots when they slaughter their enemies, you nevertheless want to be prepared. Can't take any chances. Still... those were some odd noises.

Maybe you'd have more luck finding the source of that noise? _Someone_ has to be making all that racket. Maybe you can beat some answers out of them?

You swing your backpack off of your back and dig into it. You don't have to dig through it too much-- what you want is literally sticking halfway out of the main pocket of your backpack; your trusty, handy-dandy, big ass metal baseball bat! You give it a few test swings to make sure you've got your form right; yup, still got it! Thank god for all those baseball lessons and try outs that your dad forced you into as a young child. Never thought they'd actually come in handy... huh. Thanks, pops.

Anyway, time to keep moving and find that noise.

You stalk through the hallways, trying to get closer to the source of the noise-- but there are so many hallways that it's hard to tell where _exactly_ the noise is coming from as it sounds like the noses completely surround you... that, and you've never had the best sense of direction. The worst, really.

As you're walking onward you notice that one noise sounds particularly louder than all the rest-- like it's just ahead of you.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

There's a sudden slam-- like something just got whacked really hard, just around the corner from where you're standing. Summoning up your courage, you prepare your metal bat for some action, throw yourself around the corner and--

_... is that Henry?!_

"Henry? Is that really you?" You ask as you drop the bat while taking a hesitant step forward. Henry is standing there with his back towards you, wearing the same outfit he left your house in-- a dress shirt, some pants, and some suspender. His sleeves are rolled up, and his fists are clenched, and he seems to be... trembling? Slowly, he looks over his shoulder, and looks at you with wide, shocked eyes. _Those eyes._ You know those eyes anywhere. That's Henry, alright! That's your baby! Your smile widens and you rush forward to your husband with an excited cry of "Henry!" but...

....The moment you make a move towards him he spins around and quickly backs away from you

Frowning, you tilt your head at the action. Why did he move away so fast? He's been missing for a week, isn't he happy to see you? God, those police hadn't been right when they suggested he might be trying to get away from you, were they? Gosh, you hope not.

"Henry..? Henry, what's wrong? Why do you look so scared?" You ask, taking cautious steps forward.

"Get away from me. Get away from me!" He snarls defensively, while he starts to back away from you slowly, arms held up in surrender like you're going to wring his neck. Honestly, it hurts you. You can get violent, but you've never laid a hand on Henry. Not him, never him. He should know that. Shouldn't he?

"Henry, what are you talking about? It's me! It's your wife!"

You take one step forward but whatever has Henry locked in a daze causes him to suddenly take off down the hallways, but whatever has him frightened makes him run away like he's trying to get away from a serial killer or masked murderer. You immediately take off after him with a loud cry of 'Hey! Baby, wait!', as you desperately try to keep up with his long, frantic strides.

"GET AWAY! You're not my wife! You're an illusion!" He cries out, not looking back at you _once._

"An illusion? What the-- What are you talking about?!" You shout back, utterly confused as you try to keep up with him. However, he doesn't respond. He just weaves in and out of doorways and hallways, like a frightened rat in a maze. It has your frustration growing. Why was he doing this? Didn't he want to just come home? You're right here!

"Baby! Stop!"

He doesn't. He says nothing, which frustrates you to no end because the silent treatment is one of your pet-peeves. "Baby!" You repeat yourself as your temper grows. Still, he continues to run from you like a frightened child that's about to get an ass-whooping. Finally, you completely lose your temper and for the first time in a long time, you shout at Henry;

"GOD DAMN IT HENRY, GET YOUR OLD ASS BACK HERE!!"

....Henry immediately stops in his tracks, and you quickly stop a few feet behind him, your chest heaving as you desperately try to catch your breath. You stare at him with furrowed eyebrows, wide, confused eyes, and a deep frown on your face. You continue to pant heavily, staring at him in complete bewilderment. Slowly, Henry turns back around, heavy boots knocking against the rickety wooden floors. His once scared expression has softened into something you've.. you've never quite seen on his face. It's then that you realize how tired he looks, and how... _hopeless_ he appears. He has heavy bags under his eyes, like he hasn't slept a wink in weeks.

Frowning sympathetically, you cautiously step forward towards your husband. When you've come to stand directly in front of him, you slowly reach a hand up and carefully reach to cup his cheek. He flinches away from your touch as you bring your hand close to his cheek, but... he eventually leans into your touch. Soothingly, your thumb softly strokes his pronounced cheekbones. The small gesture combined with the touch of your skin against his causes him to huff in disbelief as tears gather in the corner of his eyes. Your eyes search his for some sort of explanation as to why he ran, but all you can find is heartbreak, and exhaustion.

"Oh, sweetheart... _what happened to you?"_

Henry lets out what sounds like a choked sob, and the tears begin to slowly fall down his cheeks. He inhales sharply, only to let it back out in the form of a shaky, breathy huff "It.. It really is you." He mumbles, his voice thick with emotion and relief.

"Of course, it's me..."

His eyes become _overwhelmed_ with tears, as he collapses to his knees, his joints and weight thudding against the weak wooden floors with a loud 'KUNK'. You immediately drop your metal bat to your side, as your arms come up to support him while you also crash to your own knees so that he doesn't hurt himself as he becomes overwhelmed from shock or whatever other emotion is rushing through his system right now and causing him to have a full-on mental break down within the comfort of your arms. He doesn't hesitate to just curl himself into your arms, sobbing and wailing so hard that his torso shakes. Honestly, you've never heard him make such... _pained and agonizing_ noises. 

"Baby, what did he _do_ to you?" You coo sweetly, as you gently begin to rock him in your arms.

Henry sniffles and looks up at you, tears still running down his cheeks. Some snot even drips from his nose, but that doesn't matter to you. Not when he's finally back in your arms. He opens his mouth and says; "It's been so long... I never thought I'd see you again. You haven't aged a day... how many years has it been...?" He whispers, while caressing your cheek.

"Years? Darling, it's only been a week. You've been missing for a week." You reply softly, furrowing your eyebrows together in confusion.

His eyes widen in shock. "A week...? But... That doesn't... make any sense... it must be the machine... I'm so sorry..." He begins, pausing a moment to hide his face and sob some more. Eventually, he looks back up at you. "I'm sorry for running from you. This place, it's... I've been seeing illusions of you. They were never really you. They were uncannily alike, but... they were always sweet. Too sweet, too kind, too nice; they didn't have that spicy kick of attitude you always carry. Always whispered sweet things. I thought..."

"You thought I was an illusion until I said something nasty?" You ask, trying to understand him correctly. He nods vigorously, and holds you tightly against his chest. He tries to slow his breathing and calm himself. It works for the most part, but you can hear his frantic heartbeat pounding in your ear.

"It's ok. It's ok. I'm here now." You softly murmur against the fabric of his dress shirt. His calloused hands come down to cup your cheeks, as he forces you to stare up at him.

"...I thought I'd never see you again..." He mumbles softly, before he quickly but gently leans in to press his lips against yours. His experienced lips drift and move against yours as the heat within his belly begins to gradually heighten. Desperate and touch-starved for affection, he cradles the back of your head to support you as he dips you back slightly so he can deepen the kiss. It's _wonderful._ There are fireworks and sparks of happiness that flash behind your closed eyelids, as you hum appreciatively into the kiss. His arms move from your upper back, down to your lower back where he gently tugs your body closer to his, trying to feel every inch of you that he can as a way of reassuring himself that you're really here and that he wasn't kissing some sort of Bendy cut-out in an affection-starved state.

When you part lips, you smile sweetly up at him. Seeing that smile, it's like a breath of fresh air for him. He feels like he has faith again. He feels like he can be optimistic once more. Your arrival... it broke the cycle. It created a change in the system. He doesn't know what's going on specifically, but something about you broke this rut he's stuck in. Perhaps... perhaps this time will be different? He hopes so, now that you're here. You brought him hope. 

You've always brought him hope...

He smiles down at you and presses a light kiss to your forehead, before asking; "So what happened? How'd you figure out I was here?"

"You mean other than the fact that you literally told me you were going to be here?" You ask, as you dig into your pocket and pull out the letter that Joey sent him. Henry's eyes catch sight of the familiar paper and he scowls. You chuckle softly. "Don't worry. I gave him hell for trapping you."

"You know? How?"

"I threatened to beat it out of him if he didn't tell me... then I proceeded to beat him anyway because I was pissed off he did you wrong."

Henry smiles and nuzzles his face into your hair as he chuckles softly. _"Please,_ tell me you punched him in the face."

"I did more than just punch him in the face, and I'll do more once we get out of here. C'mon, I got his keys. Let's go!" You say as you try to stand up, but Henry refuses to let you go and holds you close to his chest to moment you try to move. Confused, you look up at him and frown at his sorrowful expression.

"We can't leave. I've tried, baby."

"What are you talking about, Henry?" You ask softly with a gentle frown.

"I... I don't know how Joey did it, but... Ok, this is going to sound... _completely crazy,_ ok? But I need you to trust me. I need you to believe me, please for the love of _God , _believe me."

"Yes, yes of course." You reply, scrunching your brows together in a concerned fashion.

Henry runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to think of how to clearly explain himself and what's truly going on; "I don't know how Joey did it, but... he created this ink machine that--"

"Brings his cartoons to life. I beat that information out of him too. I also know why he sent you here. Apparently one of his cartoons came out mutated and he wants _you_ to kill him."

"Yes. Bendy... though that's not the only mutated one down here." Henry replies, "As for killing Bendy, I have. Over and over again. I've done it so many times, I've lost count..."

"What? How? How have you killed him multiple times?"

"Sweetheart, something about that ink machine that Joey used to create them has also got this place stuck in a time loop. I don't know what the hell he did, but... he did something dark. I can't get out, I've tried. I've tried to change my routine to the best of my ability, tried to find different solutions, but the moment I kill Bendy, I'm sent right back here... then the cycle starts back up again. Time also apparently passes different in here. What has been a week outside of the studio... baby, I thought I've been stuck in here for _years."_

Your eyes widen. "Years? That's impossible. Time doesn't distort like that--"

"And cartoons can't come to life, but here we are." Henry says while giving you a gentle, but pointed look that says 'C'mon, sweetheart.. really?'.

Frowning with a huff, you nod as you lean over to grab your metal bat. After stuffing it into your backpack, you cross your arms over your chest. "So what do we do?"

"We do all that we can do; go through the cycle and hope now that you're here, something different happens this time."

"So where do we go?"

Henry visibly cringes at the question. "Well, any minute now--"

Suddenly, you and Henry both hear what sounds like a pipe bursting from behind your husband. There's also what sounds like like a _very low snarl and a hiss._ The noise makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your eyes threaten to pop out of your head. "What the fuck was THAT????" You ask, in complete shock. You've never heard a sound like that in your entire LIFE.

"Shit." Henry curses under his breath as he suddenly pulls the both of you to your feet and whips his head back around to look at you with wide, frightened eyes. "That was Bendy! Time to go!" 

"THAT WAS **BENDY**!? The cute little cartoon demon?!?!"

Henry laughs nervously as he takes you by the hand and begins to speed down the hallway. "He's not so small and cute anymore, hon! We gotta run!"

You don't have to be told twice, especially not when you hear a suddenly a very loud, very pissed off sounding growl that sounds _much_ closer than the first one. Leaping onto your feet, you hold your husbands hand as you sprint down the hallway, following his lead. As you run, you can hear the sounds of 'Bendy', clambering, snarling and growling as he chases after you and Henry. God, he sounds so much larger than his little cartoon form. Do you dare...? 

You look over your shoulder, and are completely stricken with terror by what you see.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/187285942@N03/49714477792/in/dateposted/)

"What in the fuck is THAT!?" You cry out in utter horror, as the inky, sloppy creature apparently known as 'Bendy' literally crawls along the walls and ceiling in an attempt to get you and Henry. Henry, having heard your cry, looks over his shoulder just in time to see Bendy reach out for you specifically and shouts out "WHOA, Buddy! Hands off the wife!" before suddenly scooping you up in his arms and taking off even faster down the hallway.

"Hang on to me, sweetheart."

"Why?" You ask, despite following his command immediately.

"Because we're gonna fall through the floor right about now-- **AAAH!** "

The floor suddenly breaks beneath Henry's feet, sending the pair of you crashing down through down through several floors. Henry curls himself protectively around you to brace you from the fall, clinging to you. Your landing is 'softened' when you crash-land in a semi-deep, slushy pool of ink. You and Henry both as you pick yourselves off the floor with a groan. Henry slowly sets you down onto the floor, taking a moment to look over you first to make sure you're not ok.

"Fuck, that hurts every time that happens... Are you ok, honey?"

"Yeah. Juuuust peachy." You groan as you attempt to crack your spine. Henry cringes at the sound of it, but is relieved to find you're alright after a quick look over you. Panting softly from exhaustion, you look up at Henry. "How about you? How's my sugar?"

"I'm alright. I'm used to it by now." He replies, waving his hand dismissively.

You nod a few times before asking; "You thirsty?"

"Thirsty...? Actually.. yeah, I am."

"Ok. See if you can find a way to drain all this ink. I'm gonna go climb up on that giant dresser thing and go through everything."

"How much did you pack in there?" Henry asks, already on his way over to the valve that he knows will drain all the ink-- lord knows he's memorized everything after having gone through so many cycles. As the ink drains, you climb up onto the leaning dresser and sit down comfortable on one of the ledges. 

"I'm a pack-rat, babe. You know this."

"Yes. I guess what I should be asking is _what_ do you have in there?"

"Weapons. Candles. Mini-lanterns. Food. I even got a couple first aid kits in here."

Henry rolls his head back with an appreciative groan, clasps his hands together and silently thanks god for your existence. He leans his head back up, looks at you and smiles. "I love you so much."

"Love you too." You grin. "Didn't think I was gonna come in here empty handed, did you?"

"Thank god I married you."

"Mmm, thank god I said yes." You reply with a grin while patting the ledge beside you. "C'mere, big boy. Come sit with your little ol' firecracker!"

Henry chuckles and jogs across the room with a pep in his step, and climbs up onto the dresser with you. You reach into the bag, digging around for a water bottle. Once you find one, you hand it to him which he quickly downs as soon as possible. You silently quirk an eyebrow, amused at your husband's antics. When he has completely emptied the bottle, he simply tosses it over his shoulder and turns to look at your chuckling form.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, you camel." You tease playfully. "Just giggling at how quickly you downed that water."

Henry snorts and wraps an arm around you, leaning against you and resting his cheek against the top of your head. "I'm glad you're here... I know it's not the best situation to be in and maybe it's selfish of me to say this, but.. I'm glad you're here. I missed you so much..." He says, gradually softening his voice as he further explains; "I was scared I'd never get to see you again."

"Silly husband, did you forget what I told you on our honeymoon night all those years ago?" You grin while shaking your head in disbelief at him.

"...'Can you do that thing I like again'?"

You snort and playfully slap his chest as a deep chuckle reverberates through his chest. "No, you goof! After that!"

"....'Round 3'?" He says, smirking cheekily.

"Henry Stein! Now you listen to me, you booger-head!!" You playfully scold him as you gleefully laugh.

He just smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at you like an idiot before playfully whining; "Whaaat? What did I dooooo?"

You throw your head back and begin to cackle as you clutch your stomach. Unbeknownst to you, Henry is smiling affectionately down at you like a love-sick moron. Oh, how _relieved_ he was to have you here with him. You made this whole process so much easier to go through, and you two hadn't even gone deeper into the bowels of the studio just yet.

"Henry, I told you that I was stubborn like grass stains on white jeans. You can't get rid of me." You reply while sending an adoring look in his direction.

He chuckles softly. "That's not how I'd quite put it, but alright."

"Oh?" You ask, tilting your head. "And how would you put it?"

"You're my lighthouse. My little candlelight in this dark, damp studio, and even though _you_ might not feel as if you make a big difference, I can rest easy knowing I have you as my guiding light to help bring me home and keep me centered. With you here, I feel... 20 times stronger than I was before."

Your eyes widen a bit, but quickly soften at the sweet words. You blush and let out a girlish giggle while leaning into Henry's side. He chuckles softly and presses another kiss to your forehead. As long as you were here, he could do this. You'd get through this together.

  
Only time will tell what fate has in store for the both of you.

♥

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii!
> 
> So, that's the end of chapter 1! There will be more to come, when I feel like writing it... 😅  
> Let me know what you guys think, and what you think is going to happen. How do you think the other characters are going to act towards the Reader? How do you feel about our feisty feisty reader?
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated! :D  
> Love yo faces, and see you in the next one!  
> -Mistress


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